


Take to the Skies

by madeof_it



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dragon Riders, Dragons, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 09:14:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1852615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeof_it/pseuds/madeof_it
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie loves his life even if it smells sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take to the Skies

It's weird at the sanctuary. Charlie's gotten used to it for the most part -- which is good, because with four years of experience it'd be terrible if he hadn't adjusted already -- but there are still bizarre days that throw him for a loop.

Most of the time, it's just him and the other fellows (and the occasional woman, but many choose not to get stuck here). They smell like dragon dung (and joke about its value, shoveling poo while thinking about the wizards that'll gag be putting it into some of the more exotic potions) and rise with the sun, although they stay up past darkness and sing songs around the fire. Each one of them is an expert in roasting marshmallows to a golden brown, and some of the luckier ones have even taught their favourite dragons the correct blast needed to torch the gooey white balls of fluff themselves.

Charlie's one of the lucky ones, with his little Bessie. "Little" is a relative term, since she's still nearly twenty feet long and quite young. He'd been given her egg with instructions to "not fuck it up!" and so he'd helped hatch her in the absence of her mother.

It wasn't easy being a dragon's mum, he sighed to himself, spending another moment being thankful for his own mother. Molly had raised a whole brood of redheads that had as much energy as a herd of dragons and it wasn't until he was forced into his own animal-surrogate-parent role that he really appreciated all she'd done for them in their long childhoods.

Bessie was nosing at his shoulder, a faint rumble from his side, and it brought him back to himself. She was hungry, of course, ALWAYS HUNGRY (like Ron, he thought fondly), and then it'd be time for her morning fly. She loved those, Charlie astride her neck, the two of them a pale blur in the skies. He was glad he still had the opportunity to fly, regretting his choice to not pursue Quidditch after school a bit.

Before he could rise to his feet, she was nudging him again, knocking him over with her impatience for breakfast and then playtime.

He laughed, swatting her face away. "Alright, Bess, just give me a second!" Patting her snout, he pulled himself up and swept dirty hands over his trousers. Bessie ate A LOT, and then it was time to take to the skies.

There was a lot of love in his heart for his dragons. It wasn't just an affection for Bessie, but for all of the creatures that came through his sanctuary. Dragons were giant beasts, capable of tearing apart villages, or wreaking havoc with livestock, of carrying off princesses and interrupting royal wars. But just because that potential lived inside of them didn't mean that they always utilized it. They could fly with amazing grace, swooping through clouds, and he found it hard to be as scared of them as he may have been if he hadn't seen them crawl out of their crackling shells, tiny and vulnerable with their soft velvety skin not yet covered in scales. He loved them, and he knew that most people couldn't understand it. Dragons weren't like kittens or puppies, after all.

With his knees pressed against the side of Bessie's neck, hundreds of feet in the are and acres and acres of Scandanavian farmland passing below them, he knew that any decisions he may have regretted making were irrelevant and any different choices would've taken him from this scene and deposited him in some other life. He couldn't imagine being happy with a little blonde wife and a job in the dark dungeons of ages past like Bill. He couldn't imagine enjoying a life poring over numbers and cauldrons and sparking experiments the way the twins did.

Charlie needed this flying rush of air in his lungs, needed his long hair (which Mum disapproves of) whipping around his face, needed these white scales and red fires like he knew his life would be incomplete without them. And as if the skies understood that he looked to them for beauty and life every single day, it started pouring. Bessie purred at the sensation of the cold water cascading across her back and Charlie cast a quick Warming Charm, laughing as Bessie was suddenly energized by the downpour. He held on tight as she darted through the skies, showing off with some flying tricks she'd taught herself.

Below them, the pavement shone silver in the rain and he felt like the entire world was suddenly more valuable; life is priceless.

As quickly as it began, the rain ended and a rainbow stretched in front of him and his dragon.

He leaned forward, the words soft to human ears but knowing that she'd understand him.

"Chase it, Bess. Let's find its end."


End file.
